Six of Seven
by Sukite
Summary: Game night was always special for Corvo the Delphox and her friends. She loved being surrounded by those who cared and supported her - and they, with smiles or tears, laughs or screams, carry the burden of each other's problems, no matter how horrifying they may seem. One-shot.


"Your play, Corvo."

Eyes lit up, two strange fires clouded by smoke.

"I'm sorry?"

Chairs squeaked in protest and delicate silverware rattled against the tabletop. A card slid across the wood with a whisper. Trembling, a black paw passed above it, touching it tenderly, lifted it. An uncomfortable silence followed afterward.

"Is something wrong, Corvo?" A vine extended out to touch the Delphox's shoulder. Her muscles twitched in recoil to the touch, defensive.

"I'm fine." Her voice came out tight, a spool strangled with copper wire. Rubbing nervously at her neck fur to the left of Corvo, a Meowstic watched the Venusaur and Delphox carefully, fur bristling for the briefest of moments. Noticing this, Corvo relaxed slightly and continued in a timorous rasp, "I'm sorry, Ferguson." She stared with intense hatred at her card. "There's just been a lot on my mind." Ferguson nodded and stared at the floor.

"Out with it," the Meowstic growled irritably. "Something is bothering you. You need to tell us what's wrong."

"Kéas!" Raptor eyes bored sternly into the cat's eyes, but she only stared indifferently back. The Talonflame clacked his beak and adjusted himself until he sat higher on his chair, eyeing the Meowstic warily. "It's not fair of you to push her to speak. Leave her be." He turned to Corvo, his eyes softening. "But really, is there something you want to tell us?"

Corvo's eyes burned brightly, wildly, almost like that of a cornered beast, but she recovered quickly. "It's not important," she said quickly. "How about we continue playing?" Her paws scrambled for her cards, which had become scattered leaves in an invisible storm. Kéas was about to protest but sat back and sank into her chair cushion, glaring ice daggers at Corvo, accusing.

"I would have been able to sense something wrong even if you were good at hiding your feelings."

The quiet side of the table stirred; there was a scraping of wood as a chair was drawn back, breaking the tense violin-string atmosphere into a lull. "I'll go fetch us some wine," said the Goodra as she pushed her chair back into place. "Come help me with the refreshments, Donahue." She tugged at the Lucario beside her, motioning towards the kitchen. He nodded and followed her.

On her way out, she wavered next to Corvo for a minute, eyes gently skimming over her face. She touched her arm. "Would you like anything specific? Tea, or perhaps those nice lemon cookies I baked earlier?"

Corvo's heart fluttered on insect wings, her chest tight and feeling so compressed to the point where she had to let out a stuttering breath to relieve some of the tension. "Thank you, Chell. I think I'll just take the wine with a few of the cookies, please." The Goodra smiled in response and went on her way. The Lucario, in passing the Delphox, gave her a pat on the back. He leaned inward to her and put up a paw to block out their conversation.

"Try to take it easy," he muttered under his breath, flatly but not unkindly. "Don't let that old cat get to you. You know she can't help that aggressive streak."

"I can hear you!" The voice was loud enough to make the walls shout hollowly back, indignant to the outburst.

Donahue twitched a grin and strolled off to accompany Chell.

"I'll go next so you can find your cards." Carefully, so as not to break the tentative easing of the situation, Kéas slowly drew her card forward, tugging it with an invisible child's fingers. "Five," she muttered, eyeing it, looking from it to Corvo in one smooth motion, as if anticipating an attack. Her eyes shifted to the Talonflame. "Vance?"

"Four," he replied. His head flicked gleefully, treating his card as if it was a stone to find treasure under. He hopped and dug his talons into his seat, much to the pitiful moaning of the wood, chuckling. "No, looks like three." He leaned forward and placed the tip of his beak into the center of the card. "I'm all out."

Kéas bared her teeth into a vicious smile and pulled the rest of the Talonflame's remaining cards into her pile, her eyes of a child sneaking away with sweets stolen from the kitchen counter.

"One!" All of the players jolted, eyes wide. Corvo's grass voice quivered, shaking in the breeze of her sudden change in tone. The Delphox lifted a red ace, presenting it, holding it out with a pained expression filled with every bit of disgust for a filthy trophy. "I need one. I take this one with me."

"Corvo." The voices were low, murmured, some shocked and one righteously smug.

Chell hurried over to her side with Donahue trailing closely behind, placing the tray of food on the table with careless abandon, breaking one of the smaller glasses – it was ice rapped sharply by a disturbing hand, probing in the snow. "How did it happen?"

"I didn't mean to," she cried, paws shaking and voice screaming, the pressure of her boiling teapot heart finally breaking through its metal cage in a whistling screech. "I never meant to take the battle far!" The players looked down at the crying Delphox as she flung her card across the room, only to have it flutter across the table and land with all the grace of a paper ballerina on its side.

With hurt expressions, the gathered party self-consciously drew out their own cards: Vance with four, Ferguson with six, Chell with five, Donahue with eight, and Kéas with ten. They bowed their heads and sat silently next to Corvo, their game left to be untouched forever, oblivious.

Amid the hysterical sobbing, Kéas lifted her chin up to them all, smiling. Her voice was bitter and quiet, and she spoke so none but she could hear. "Time to buy a new deck."


End file.
